


Paperwork

by RobinTrigue



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bad Dragon merchandise, M/M, Trans Male Character, inappropriate activities in the workplace, mutual antagonism, sort of daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue
Summary: Pete Dunne wants attention. William Regal is fairly certain that paying him any mind will only make things worse.





	Paperwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gasmasked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmasked/gifts).



> A very happy birthday to [Gasmasked](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmasked/pseuds/gasmasked). I love you so much, you absolute legend <3 
> 
> And many thanks to [MisterVaudeville](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterVaudeville/pseuds/MisterVaudeville) for proofreading!

“Who— Jesus bleeding Christ, what are you doing in my office?”

Pete Dunne shrugged, not otherwise reacting at all as Regal shut the door. He did, of course, continue masturbating.

“Dunno. S’it look like I’m doing?”

Regal hung his jacket on the hook, shaking his head. “And what would you have done if I’d come in here with Hunter?”

“Is he here? You offering?”

Normally, William Regal liked to retreat backstage, undo his shirt cuffs, and escape just a little bit from the chaos of the day. But the sartorial ritual brought no such relief today, because when he turned to his desk there was still a naked wrestler lounging on it with his hand wrapped around a pale green cock.

“Do you mind? I need to fill out some of the forms you’re lying on. I know this may come as a shock to you, but there is more to wrestling than running about punching people you’re not supposed to.”

Pete smirked like he’d just been paid a compliment, and rolled from his side to flat on his back. Regal stepped forward quick enough to rescue his stapler but not his pen cup from Pete’s careless thighs.  He tsked as he fished the victims of the fall out of his waste paper basket, setting them on the floor by the wall where they’d be safer.

“Sorry,” Pete deadpanned.

Regal chose not to acknowledge that, knees protesting slightly as he pulled himself off the carpet. He lifted one of the buiserweight’s shoulders and tugged a stack of papers from under his back. It took two tries, during which Pete maintained full eye contact. When he dropped him down again, there was a loud, sensual moan.

Regal felt so, so tired. He picked a stray pen off the ground and went over to his armchair in the far corner. Pete continued with some dramatic thrusting and moaning, which the general manager did his level best to tune out. He wasn’t completely successful, but this job was hell at the best of times and really it ought to have been a relief that Dunne was trying to get a rise out of him this way and not by setting his car on fire or something similar.

Indeed, Pete did lose interest before Regal had finished reading the first page of the athletic commission’s review of the safety risks last Takeover. He rolled over onto his side again with a crinkling that made Regal wince, and released the fascinatingly ridged cock to sweep the hair from his face.

“Your desk’s proper uncomfortable,” he said.

“You’re free to leave at any time.”

“Hmm. Nah.” He started stroking again. Regal put his pen down in irritation.

“You’d better not be getting sweat stains on my things.”

“Or what?” Pete smirked. “Hey, cute, a little lizard. Why’ve you got a framed photo of a lizard on your desk, mate?”

“Set that down.”

“You into that stuff? Cos I got an iguana dick at home, I could wear it next time.”

“I said to set it down.”

“Yeah, I heard ya. So is it the same lizard in both these photos, or—”

Regal crossed the room to rescue his photographs and place them down by the pens.

“Oi, I was lookin’ at that! Hot lil reptilian pin-up!”

Regal didn’t bother to stop pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please cease your nattering. ...What even _is_ that _thing?”_

“This?” Pete let off rubbing his nipples to gesture at the length with both hands. “This here’s Bruiser. He’s ectoplasm-coloured. Glows in the dark, wanna have a look?”

“ _No.”_

Pete shrugged. “Suit yourself. So, them lizards, is one of them your cousin or somethin’? You’re related to the royals, aren’t ya? Wasn’t you a Lord? Is that hereditary or—”

“Is there something seriously wrong with you? Is there some problem you have that’s making you like this?” Something about Regal’s wild gesturing made Pete grin and sit up, apparently not minding the clink of paperclips falling to the desk from where they had stuck to his back.

“But d’ya know what I’m talking about? There’s this bloke called David Icke—”

“Yes I know who David bloody Icke is. Look, your _ass_ is still on the papers I need for there to even be another Takeover, so if you want to defend your precious title, you’ll get off it and let me work.”

Pete shrugged again. “What’s the point? I’ll win all the defences anyway, might as well let everyone else quit while I’m ahead.” He began banging his heels on the wood arrhythmically, thunderous enough that it was definitely going to give Regal a headache. Without really thinking about it, he took a ruler from the edge of the desk and smacked Dunne across the knees.

The banging stopped.

“Ooh, _sir._ ” Regal ran a hand over his face, taking care when he emerged to only look at the top half of Dunne’s body. “Is that how they did it at Eton, _sir?_ When a boy’d been terribly naughty, _sir?”_

“What will it take for you to leave?” he asked, willing to stoop to negotiation.

Pete dropped the voice immediately, usual impassive look settling over his features.

“You could suck me off.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Fine, I’ll suck myself off.” It only took a quick shimmy for Pete to slip the strap-on harness off himself. He stuck the pointed head into his mouth and slurped so resoundingly that Regal instinctively glanced around the room to make sure they weren’t being watched.

Pete began to moan theatrically as the fantastical trappings of the dildo inched past his lips one by one. His back arched as he started to finger himself, and Regal realised to his horror that he’d been caught staring. He hurriedly stuck a hand in his pocket to adjust himself, make it less obvious, but sadly Pete was already smirking. The sound of the dangling nylon straps brushing his bare chest was clearly audible as he waggled the dildo up and down between his teeth.

“You know, it’s not a good idea to sleep with your boss to get ahead,” Regal attempted, letting his fingers linger inside the pocket for a few seconds.

Pete rolled his eyes, spitting out the dragon penis or whatever it was. “Please. As though NXT’s anything more than a stepping stone to get on Raw.”

“You little—”

“Go on, what am I? Am I a little swot? Tell me I’m a _dreadful_ swot.”

“You’re an attention-seeking piece of shit is what you are.”

Pete grinned, apparently thrilled. He spat in one hand and continued rubbing at himself, holding the dildo out with the other, like an offering. “You sure you don’t want a go? I’d be really, really good.”

“You’re not capable of being that good,” Regal muttered, thoroughly distracted by the way Pete’s breath was catching as his fingers started slipping in a little deeper.

Pete tossed the dragon cock over his shoulder. It and the harness landed against the filing cabinet with a thud. “Tell you what, I’ll leave you alone if you let me suck _you_ off.”

That was certainly a good deal; Regal’s belt was unbuckled and down around his ankles before he had even finished saying “mind your teeth, for once.”

Pete certainly defended his territory well. Rather than getting down onto his knees, he spread himself across the desk once more, gesturing for Regal to come to him. He obliged, pumping at himself quickly as he shuffled forward. The feeling of sliding past Dunne’s lips made this whole ordeal seem worth it. Regal had to brace a hand on the side of the desk to avoid making a sound that would embarrass himself.

After a few thrusts, he managed to open his eyes; to his relief, Dunne appeared focused on his work rather than the reactions it was eliciting. His tongue swirled masterfully around the shaft, hand a little bit braver in its explorations. It felt better than William Regal would have cared to admit, were he forced to do so.

He allowed his own hand to make its way down the plane of Pete’s stomach, over the curls of his pubic hair. He cupped him and squeezed, feeling a stiff clit and the wetness of Pete’s own saliva; it earned him a quiet sound as Pete quickened his pace.

Regal gently worked his way into Pete’s folds, getting a finger on either side of his clit and finding a rhythm. Pete grabbed Regal by the ass to pull him closer in response, humming and squirming with every stroke. Regal bit his lip, able to feel the perspiration gathering on his brow as he unclamped his free hand from the desk and rested it on Pete’s head, tugging him forward by the scalp as he thrusted into that marvellous wetness.

Pete suddenly whimpered. “Call me Daddy!”

“What?”

He withdrew his fingers in surprise. Dunne swallowed, then returned to his usual monotone. “I said, I want you to call me ‘Daddy.’”

Regal’s laugh was short and hoarse. “I am _not_ doing that.”

“Aaw, please?” Pete tugged Regal’s foreskin back over his head and ran the tip of his tongue under it. “Come on, please call me Daddy. It’d be great, just call me Daddy.” With his other hand, he entwined their fingers and brought them back to rub at his crotch, the very tips of their fingers tracing his entrance.

Regal drew himself upright as best he could, trying to retain some sense of dignity and not be distracted by the way Pete was gasping and moaning.

“I’ll have you know, I would sooner die than debase myself in such a manner.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Pete opened his eyes for only a second to look at him before returning to lying on his back and loosely wanking Regal off. “If you call me ‘Daddy,’ I’ll let you come.”

“What do you mean you’ll _let_ me—”

“Go on, call me Daddy, you know you want to. Go on, Regal. Say ‘suck me please, Daddy.’”

“I—” Regal began, but Pete had bent upwards to lick at his shaft and he couldn’t do anything but groan and thrust and grip the desk while he fingered the man underneath him.

“C’mon, please, it’d be so good, just once, call me Daddy.”

“‘Daddy,’” Regal grunted, gasping for air when Pete swallowed him down once again. Then he pulled away.

“‘Suck me please, Daddy’?”

Regal glared down at the man who was running a devious tongue up the seam of his balls, and choked out through gritted teeth, “Would you be so terribly kind as to suck me off, ‘Daddy,’ please.”

Any victorious crowing was muted by Pete taking Regal hungrily into his mouth. Regal wrapped Dunne’s shaggy hair around his fist again. The quick new pace had both men whimpering, the sounds of the creaking desk below them drowned out by overpowering sensation. It nearly became too much to bear, and if Regal had any wits about him he would have worried he was pressing down on Pete too hard; but instead the next thing he knew, Pete had clamped down tight around his fingers, breathing heavily as froze with Regal’s dick in his throat.

Then it did become too much and Regal came, sweet release at last as he spilled into Pete’s mouth with a groan.

There was a second of them silently untangling themselves. Regal left his hand in Pete’s hair for a moment longer, stroking gently before staggering back a pace, feeling unusually relaxed as he slowly caught his breath. Pete rubbed at himself lazily, unwinding, as he swung himself into a seated position.

Then Dunne picked up a manila folder, spat the entire mouthful of come into it, and placed it back in the in-tray.

Regal’s jaw dropped. “Why the _hell_ did you do that!”

Pete wiped his mouth with one hand and shrugged with the other. “Come ain’t vegan, is it?”

“Those are the reservations for company suites at the Marriot!”

“Oh.” Pete picked at his chin, looking profoundly disinterested. “So?”

“You just spat ejaculate into them!”

Pete snickered. “S’pose if it comes down to it, you could always bunk in my room?”

“ _Get out!”_

Pete hopped off the desk with a smirk. “Ta then!” he said over his shoulder as he stalked out the door, still fully nude.

Regal didn’t bother to pull his trousers up as he shuffled around the desk and collapsed into his own chair. Before him, a dribble of his semen leaked out of the folder. Behind him, the ectoplasm-coloured Bruiser toppled quietly onto its side. His head sank into his hands once again.

 


End file.
